


light your way in darkness

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Aftercare, Awkward Sexual Situations, Couch Cuddles, Light Bondage, M/M, Mild Kink, aka when kink goes wrong, but Tim takes care of him so it's okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-16
Updated: 2019-10-16
Packaged: 2020-12-17 11:34:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21053714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: And didn’t even get a word out before Jon all but swatted his hands away.“Don’t touch me.”Tim held both up immediately, surrendering. “Sorry.” He lowered them back to his lap, and tried not to think about how Jon just looked like a cornered animal right now, and the most tiny of movements would send him into flight or fight.





	light your way in darkness

**Author's Note:**

> lil warning that things aren't "Storybook Healthy" here, there's some miscommunication, Tim's a lil slow on the uptake and delayed aftercare in a (mild) bdsm setting as well as references to past Not Good stuff. basically they're messy, but things do iron out!

For a moment, Tim wasn’t sure what was more funny: the fact that Jon had had an orgasm before _ he _ had, or the fact that he looked absolutely _ stunned _ by the prospect after it had already happened. Either way, Tim was still hard and aching and _ amused, _ because he’d gotten _ Jonathan Sims _ to come in his pants like an overexcited teenager, and who got to claim that title but a small (very, very small) handful of people? He might be the _ only _ one, actually, and wasn’t that just a feather in his cap?

Jon’s eyes snapped to him when he laughed, and then the moment of genuine goddamn amusement fizzled away like… Tim didn't know because the look on Jon’s face was not one Tim had seen before. A bit of the wide-eyed panic he’d seen on him at work but different, and a thousand different things crowding into his eyes even as he sat wordless, chest still heaving from pitching over that orgiastic abyss. A thousand different things and not one of them looked like anything good.

Tim’s laughter died in his throat. Actually, it did little for his dick, either, but that didn’t seem like it was going to be important anymore. “Jon?”

Christ, he’d seen him through orgasms before. They did stuff. They had right sex, now and again. But Jon had never looked at him _ quite _ like that, breathing getting shallow and sharper even as Jon didn’t _ move _ so much as a muscle, right up until– 

“Untie me.”

That… wasn’t their fail-safe. Sure, Tim was _ concerned, _ but Jon knew the parameters of this and he _ had _ just had an orgasm, it wasn’t like he didn’t often get back to business immediately after sex, so…

_ “Tim,” _ Jon continued sharply. “Don’t make me use the colors. _ Untie me.” _

Something about _ that _ did prompt him into action. Aware enough to remember the stoplight, or maybe it was just how piercing the tone was, cutting deep enough to take the look on Jon’s face and bury it firmly under Tim’s skin. Right. Something was definitely wrong.

He didn’t like to be overcautious when it came to Jon. God knew if he started, he’d never stop, and Jon was a _ grown adult. _ If he didn’t know his boundaries, he had to trust Tim enough so that he’d _ tell _ him if they found some, and if he didn’t trust him enough for that, then they were fucked even before they began. He’d _ impressed _ the importance of safewords, triple-taps and the ability to walk away if he wanted. And Jon had been pretty good about it. Done _ slow down _ a couple times, once Tim had given him the _ I need more than a withering look, Jon, you _ always _ look scathing with that resting bitch face _ speech.

Good. Fine. Not this. Definitely not nearly hyperventilating while trying so _ pointedly _ hard to hold himself together, high-strung and body stiff.

He made quick work of the ropes at Jon’s wrists, and then raised his palm to Jon’s jaw. And didn’t even get a word out before Jon all but swatted his hands away. 

“Don’t touch me.”

Tim held both up immediately, surrendering. “Sorry.” He lowered them back to his lap, and tried not to think about how Jon just looked like a cornered animal right now, and the most tiny of movements would send him into flight or fight. But, well, the comparison had already been made in his mind and he couldn’t shake it because that _ was _ what it looked like. “Sorry.”

Jon didn’t seem to have anything else to say. But at least he wasn’t _ running. _ Tim didn’t know if it was better or worse, Jon still sitting a foot away from him, legs still folded beneath him with hands balled into fists on his knees.

… either way, he absolutely wasn’t going to be getting _ words _ out of him. Jon wasn’t great with talking about sex on a good day– why the nonverbal motions worked better than safewords, some days– and Tim _ absolutely _ wasn’t going to get honesty out of him if he tried to force it now. So… he just sat. Jon wasn’t telling him to go– wasn’t telling him _ anything, _ but, oh well– and… it wasn’t like he was going to leave him there. So, a… stalemate, he guessed. He just sat there, pins and needles growing uncomfortable in his ankles, and watched Jon shiver himself back into… rationality, or whatever the hell he was trying to do.

But Jesus. Tim considered himself a bit experienced, sure. But this was new. Of course it was. Of course _ Jon _ made things different and sometimes difficult. Not… not so much the last one right now, though. Well, still difficult, just… not in the usual way. This way was a bit more frightening than a chastising look and arguments over work ethic.

It took a long while before he could even think of anything to say. In the end, he settled on routine. Jon appreciated routine. They’d established enough of one through past exploits for Tim to have a suggestion. “Take a shower?” It came out less confidently than he wanted, blunted into a question notwithstanding. He tried again. “Go clean up.”

“… yes,” Jon said. His voice was still stiff. His expression had been lacing more and more closed, so guarded Tim couldn’t guess at what was behind it this time. “I will.” It was a careful movement back to his feet– Tim didn’t offer to help this time– and a flash across his face when he stood… then he was walking studiously back towards the bathroom, and not looking back.

The door closed. Tim sagged. 

Christ, but that _ was _ new. Jon hadn’t _ ever _ reacted like that before, and Tim hoped he never did again. They hadn’t even been _ doing _ anything! Not really! Jon had agreed to let him tie his hands, loosely bound behind his back, and maybe the orgasm had been a little unexpected but Jon had always been a bit of a quick one– God, Tim didn’t _ know. _ His false confidence was getting him _ nowhere. _

But he couldn’t go after him. Not right now. Jon… had his pride, and Tim knew better than to expect Jon wanting him to infringe upon his privacy just then. Going after him would just make it worse. So Tim stayed. Coiled up the ropes for next time (never time, he didn’t think they’d be trying this again) and just… went to curl up on the sofa, just to… wait on him. The whole past few minutes hadn’t entirely killed his boner, but he absolutely did not feel like pulling now, anyway, so he was just… going to sit. Until Jon came back.

It took a long while. Or maybe Tim was just being… overly sensitive to the time. He was _ worried, _ damn it, and just about to go make an excuse about needing the bathroom just to be certain Jon hadn’t, he didn’t know, turned on the shower and bolted or something when he heard the water finally, _ finally _ turn off.

When Jon padded barefoot back in the sitting room, he still tried to play it casual, but they both probably knew he’d been patiently– impatiently– waiting. He just wasn’t going to jump at him and demand answers or anything. Best to give Jon the time to move at his own pace, and… yeah.

So Tim just smiled faintly, greeting him back, and… Jon sighed, hesitating before crossing the room to settle on the sofa next to him.

“Sorry.”

Alright. Now Tim could focus. And would have responded anyway, because _ Jon _ wasn’t the one who ought to be apologizing right now. “For _ what?” _ he asked– demanded. Right, so much for casual. He made an effort to take the sting out of his voice when he continued. “If anyone, I’m probably the one who should apologize.”

“There’s no need.”

_ “Really, _ Jon? Because that–”

“– was an overreaction,” Jon interrupted smoothly.

Tim just… that was bullshit. He’d tell him as much in a minute, too, but right then he was just… stuck staring at Jon while he tried to work Jon’s apology into something that didn’t sound so goddamn self-deprecating but _ no, _ Jon was just _ really _ blaming himself. 

“That’s stupid,” he blurted, and Jon turned to look at him. He still looked… guarded. Sheepish. “That’s stupid. There’s no overreactions, Jon, you just _ react _ to things you like and don’t, but–”

Jon interrupted again. “But I didn’t… not like it.”

“Jon.”

“I’m not lying to you.”

“Okay.” If he was saying it, Tim would believe it. Had to trust him. But. “But, sorry, I _ really _ need you to talk to me here. Did you– panic, was that it? Because of the rope–” He trailed off as Jon started shaking his head.

“No. It’s not– I didn’t formulate much opinion on that, really, my intention was to focus more on it _ after–” _

“Okay.”

“I just…” Jon sighed, slumping against Tim’s shoulder. “It’s _ stupid,” _ he said, vehement, all that anger from any disrupted moment at work stuck in his voice again. Which. Definitely. Wasn’t the intention here.

He was touching him again, though. That was good.

Tim shifted so he could pull him back against his chest. Jon went. “It’s not stupid,” Tim continued. “Whatever you’re feeling, or felt, I guarantee it’s not _ stupid. _ Talk to me, Jon. That’s the important bit, remember?”

“I didn’t expect to be hit by that _ quite _ so quickly,” Jon said stiffly. “I was just. _ Unprepared.” _

… oh. That was less monumental than he’d expected. God, of all the worst case scenarios, _ all _ of which were possible with Jon–

“I _ know, _ I never last anyway,” Jon said, and he actually managed to get the familiar derision back in his voice when he said it, so he _ must _ be feeling better. “But I’m not keen on making a mess, and even less making an idiot of myself. Lack of warning asides, I’ve managed both in one day.”

Tim couldn’t help it. He just… laughed, a bit. Not at him, not in a bad way, just… _ relief, _ almost. “Sorry,” he apologized, when Jon shifted in his arms. “I’m not– I’m just glad that’s it.”

“That’s _ enough.” _

“No, it’s _ really _ not, cause you didn’t make an idiot of yourself.”

_ “Spare _ me,” Jon intoned.

“You didn’t, though. You were _ really _ hot, all tense and straining against the ropes when you came– alright.” He gave in when Jon started squirming in earnest, but didn’t quite let him pull away again. Not this time. “Alright, sorry. But you did look good. You _ were _ good. You did exactly what you’re supposed to do. You let go.”

“I don’t like losing control.”

“That’s what sex _ is.” _

Jon groaned, and then just… sagged back against Tim’s chest, turning his face so his head was tucked somewhere about Tim’s chin. “I know,” he muttered. “That’s just it. That’s why I’m terrible at it.”

It was almost bizarre, even now, to get… _ insecurities _ out of Jon. It wasn’t even like Tim shared his own crap baggage, so it was like… putting on gloves and handling the finest, most precious jewel in the world when Jon actually shared this stuff. (Oh, yep. _ That _ was tacky.) Especially because Jon at the archives was tight-lipped about _ everything, _ by the book on every recording and follow-up and argumentative on all the tiny things.

But _ yeah, _ insecurities he shouldn’t have. Jon wasn’t _ great _ at sex– still a new thing to him, though. Being unfamiliar with sex meant sex was _ messy. _ And Tim had slept with plenty of people he cared a _ lot _ less for.

“Not _ terrible, _ Jon. Jesus. From what I’m getting, this is, like, one aspect of your life you still have control over, right? _ That’s _ why you’re upset?”

“More or… more or less,” Jon allowed. “Cheers, really, for saying it that way.”

“Yeah. Okay, so the orgasm surprised you. But you _ still _ had control. Over all of this. You chose to come over. You chose to let me tie you up and touch you and take care of you, right?”

“Y… Yes, I suppose so.”

“You chose to have me untie you when you got overwhelmed.”

_ “Yes.” _

“And you’re still here.” He made a point of squeezing at his midriff, then, pointed and tight enough that Jon grunted a breath of exertion. “You chose to stay, when you could’ve gone straight home.”

“Yes, _ alright. _ You–” Jon’s hands settled about Tim’s arms, fingers crawling to his wrists. “Stop _ squeezing _ me.”

He grinned even as he relented, and buried his face in Jon’s hair when he sighed and settled again. “I gotta get it through your skull somehow.” He shifted his hands to Jon’s hips, holding onto him loosely now. And then, because he _ had _ to: “you green now, then?”

“We’re not even doing anything.”

“Yeah, but we were, and you _ weren’t _ green, so.”

“Yes, Tim. I’m… green,” he said reluctantly. Then, softer, under his breath, “I hate those words.”

“I know you do.” He mouthed along Jon’s hair, a contemplative kiss. Kind of a sad one, actually but. Crap baggage. “But you don’t like saying _ no, _ either.”

Jon heaved a sigh, and Tim kissed his hair proper.

(They weren’t going back to the few times before the safeword system. It had been all kinds of destructive obligations. Jon had been convincing, and Tim had been _ stupid.) _

“It’s not a personal failure. Just another choice.”

“I know,” Jon mumbled. His voice was _ even _ more– if that was somehow even possible– awkward when he continued. “Thank you.”

“Mm.” It was noncommental, and for a reason. No point to drag this bullshit on and let Jon wallow in whatever self-flagellating behavior he tended to revert to, self blaming on, like, _ everything ever. _ He wouldn’t let him do that on this, anyway. Didn’t have much choice otherwise, but this? He’d do what he could here and that was that.

And he didn’t want to say _ you’re welcome. _ It was basic human compassion. Jon didn’t need to thank him for _ that, _ and it made _ him _ uncomfortable when he did.

So, instead, more basic human compassion, and Tim was going to hold onto him for awhile, and then go make some strong tea and get them something to eat. Back to the Institute tomorrow, but for now, Tim chose to stay, too.

**Author's Note:**

> I L O V E JonTim but think they've also had/will have a lot of hiccups along the way! which isn't necessarily a bad thing at all! live and learn! why they have safewords! <strike>why Jon's still struggling with safewords!</strike> they've been through some shit and they're learning together as they go along, and holding each other up when they stumble!! relationships that start out messy and build into solid 'I know what you need right now even if someone else thinks it's odd' moments like when Tim knows to let him go without pushing immediately! THAT'S the good shit!!!


End file.
